


Yes

by vwright



Category: Ylvis
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-22
Updated: 2015-04-22
Packaged: 2018-03-21 15:46:38
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,001
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3697928
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/vwright/pseuds/vwright
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Vegard's wedding. It is a happy day.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Yes

**Author's Note:**

> All to courtney who fed this idea to me and I kind of stole it from her I'm awful and I'm sorry
> 
> (also I'll proofread this properly in the morning but for now here ya go)
> 
> Disclaimer: The events, characters, and entities depicted in this work are fictional. Any resemblance or similarity to any actual events, entities, or persons, whether living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

He's not nervous but the sound of bugs buzzing in the quiet afternoon reverberates in the shell of his ear, crawling uncomfortable ripples up his forearms and the back of his neck. The whole barn is silent except for the robed man between him and his wife-to-be, droning on about god and the holiness of matrimony. A more accurate description of what Vegard is feeling is bored, but even he's not cold enough to admit it to himself. He feels romance and heart-stopping love in sporadic and unconventional times of his life; his own wedding is a far too typical setting.

He keeps his eyes fixed on her the entire ceremony, not daring to look at the tears likely spewing from his mother's eyes or the pride beaming from his father and various coworkers. He does wonder what Bård's face looks like in that moment, but he's standing just behind him. He probably has that smirk on, mouth pinched to the side and sort of smiling, but instinctually feels it isn't genuine. His wife is stunningly beautiful he notices, looking into her blue eyes from behind her thin veil. The speaker prompts him to talk at last, saying 'I do' just after her. He pulls her veil back gently, kisses her, and she's his forever. There's nothing more to say about it.  

 

 

It's uncharacteristically hot for April and Vegard sweats beneath his collar sitting at the long table outside. Everything is surreal. He looks out at the tables in the grassy opening and tries to remind himself that it all happened. He's married. His friends and family smiling and chuckling are there to celebrate a landmark moment in his life. _His_ life - it's hard to compute, but the champagne sliding down his throat lets him enjoy it anyway. Bård is standing beside him, prattling on to the crowd about Vegard's embarrassing self, and how lucky he is that his wife has taken pity on such a poor soul. Vegard chuckles and rolls his eyes as he should. He looks up at Bård several times but finds him playing to the audience, never looking his way. It feels odd. The champagne might be making him dizzy. Bård says something quick and sweet at the end about his confidence in their love and longevity, then sits to polite applause. Bård downs his entire glass of champagne in one go, and begins pouring another as he turns to his girlfriend beside him.  

Vegard dances and laughs and drinks and eats, speaks to guests and loses track of nearly everything and everyone at some point. He catches sight of his brother several times, always a drink in his hand, always laughing and talking. The buzzing insects gets louder as the sun makes its slow descent in the sky. The fizzing atmosphere of gaiety slows and calms as people sink into chairs from the weight of food, cake, and alcohol. They slump in their seats at tables, cluster in corners, lulled speech mixing into a quiet sub-track to the music the DJ plays. Vegard's wife is somewhere - always the model hostess. And looking at the name cards on his own empty table, he feels lonely. He wants to find his brother. He'll need to search.  

 

 

He sees Bård sitting by the shore of the adjacent lake, shirt untucked and sleeves rolled up.  There's an empty bottle beside him, and his hands rest between his legs, tracing lines into the damp earth. Vegard creeps out from the tree line, not wanting to be seen just yet. Pollen glints up in the dusk light and the gold reminds him of Bård. He steps on a stray branch, and the crack makes Bård turn. His back tenses, and he looks for only a second too long for Vegard to feel a chill.

He takes a seat beside his little brother, looking at the placid expanse of water before them. Bård keeps making noises like he'll speak, but stops himself. Vegard wants to wait, to put the ball in Bård's court. When no speech comes, he looks over to Bård, who holds something in his right hand he hadn't seen before.

"What do you got there?"

"A watch," he answers. He smooths his thumb over the glass face, surrounded by bright silver.

"Fancy," he ventures, and looks back out to the water.

"I bought it for you," Bård says after a minute. "Your present."

Vegard chuckles then, realizing his mischief.

"You took it back out of the gift pile?"

"Mhmm. I'm keeping it."

"Is that so?"

"Yep. I deserve it, after that torturous fucking ceremony."

The little slurs in his speech, the way his tongue sounds heavy in his mouth lets Vegard know he's thoroughly drunk. That'll be why he's so blunt. So harsh.

"Tell me how you really feel, Bård." 

His brother shakes the few remaining drops from the wine bottle into his open mouth. He tosses it aside, smacking his lips together and running his tongue over his teeth.

"A priest, Vegard, really? You and I both know that Jesus couldn't care fucking less about your marriage. God, that woman has you fucking whipped."

Vegard hides his distaste. He can smell Bård's breath; he wonders how bad it would be if Bård actually turned to face him when speaking.

"What difference does it make? I know God's not real, and if it makes her feel better..."

" _If it gets you laid,_ " Bård smiles.  

Vegard tuts as Bård leans his elbows back into the dirt. Bård keeps quiet, surprisingly, chewing on his bottom lip. Vegard has no patience to wait for the tension to dissipate. He's not nearly as drunk, and can muster the energy to small talk.

"You look nice," he says, hoping a compliment will cheer him.

"You don't," Bård answers automatically. Vegard whips his head over, a mock-insulted face ready to give Bård what he wants. And he does look back, raking his eyes over Vegard's body, his itchy brown suit. "But I guess it fits the overall theme of your wedding. Dull, tired, cheap..."

Pricks of hurt pinch the space between Vegard's eyebrows. Bård's eyes settle on his at last, his expression still so light. So he sees him, knows what he's doing, Vegard realizes. Bård's teeth catch his bottom lip, chewing, inspecting his brother's reaction. 

"Why are you being like this?" Vegard asks. 

"I want you to feel a little awful. Just a little." Bård rubs his dirty hands on his pants, grinding the mud into the cloth. Vegard scoffs; what a child. "Is it working?"

Vegard rubs his brow, frustrated at his inability to decipher his little brother's attitude with a clouded mind. 

"What did I do, Bård? Huh? Are you pissed at me for something? Is Maria pressuring you to tie the knot now? Just tell her you're too busy with--"

"Oh shut the fuck up."

Vegard pauses, cheeks burning. "Excuse me?"

"Shut the fuck up. Don't talk about my relationship. Don't talk about..." The fire dies in Bård's voice, and he swallows. He continues, like the unspoken words are obvious, like they're so deeply implied that they hang in the air. "Here, when I'm..."

He trails off as if Vegard can follow where his thoughts lead. But he can't. His mouth tastes like metal, creeping danger. 

"What?"

"When I'm pining."

The penny drops and Vegard doesn't want to choke. Bård's eyes are piercing, crystal clear.

"What are you talking about?" Vegard stutters.

"Don't fucking do that. Don't act like you don't know."

"I don't--"

"Out of everything, that's the actual worst thing you've done. Always pretending to be so fucking ignorant. I know you know. Everyone knows."

He seems embarrassed. Vegard thinks on his least favorite question they're asked - _Do you get sick of each other?_ \- and remembers for each sarcastic response it means that the opposite is true. He wonders how much of his knowledge he chooses to ignore as he attempts a rebuttal. 

"Bård, I... I didn't want..."

His answers don't matter though because Bård can't really hear him. His eyes are focused, sharp, and whizzing past Vegard's stuttering; he barrels on with the momentum of confession.

"I count how many times you look back at me when I'm staring at you. How many times you fucking see me sitting there, just..." He pauses, searching. Vegard resists the urge to supplement a word. "Aching," he settles on at last, voice small with truth. "And every fucking time you look away. Every single fucking time." He looks at Vegard and burns, anger yearning. "Why? Why the fuck do you do that?"

Vegard knows his little brother enough to see his fire for the doused flame it truly is. It's not fair to pretend, to push safe logic, but it is easy.

"What am I supposed to do, Bård?" Vegard asks, lacing in hollow anger. 

"Tell me to stop! Tell me to fuck off, tell me you hate me, get rid of me forever. Do fucking _anything_. Don't just let me feel this by myself." Bård has moved closer without Vegard realizing until his pathetic words are said with a spastic slap at the ground. Vegard would have less patience for his immaturity if he didn't know how long Bård has waited to say this. 

"I don't want to push you away," he admits.

Bård balks, caught between laughter and reproach. "You don't want to--" he starts, but shakes his head and stands rather than finishing. Vegard watches his unsteady legs ground themselves firmly, the way he digs his heels into the dirt as he walks toward the water.

"Bård," he calls, but he's not sure why. He doesn't _really_ want to keep talking to his brother, and not about this of all things. Vegard's longstanding commitment to responsibility keeps him there, keeps him trying to remedy the hurt Bård made him inflict.

Bård stands at the waves lapping up to the soles of his polished black shoes. He's dressed worse at award shows, Vegard thinks, wonders briefly why he bothered with the formality. The only other time he's seen Bård wear shoes like that when not on television was at a funeral.

He looks out at the water, then to the watch clutched in his palm. He mumbles something, but Vegard isn't close enough to hear. "Bård, what are you doing?" he asks. 

Vegard approaches and Bård noticing jostles it in his hand. Vegard senses what he's about to do; the click of recoginition exchanges between their gaze.

Now nearly beside him, Vegard lunges his hand out to pluck the watch from Bård's hand. Bård pulls back in time, Vegard stumbling forward. "Bård, come on."

He reaches out again but Bård steps away, cold anger in his face. "Fuck you," he says, raising his arm at the elbow.

"Stop it, just--"

Bård throws the watch in a wide arch, the pricey metal plunking dully into the water some 30 feet away. He breathes hard, staring at the spot where it disappeared beneath the surface. Vegard sighs, slaps his hand against his leg.

"Great. Now neither of us can have it."

"I didn't want it," Bård spits.

"I did," Vegard says, eyes trained on the waves.

Bård glances over, surprise at the genuine tone, the softness in his brother's voice. He stares, his brain catching up, then looks down as the corners of his mouth do the same.

"Fuck," he swears. He taps his foot rapidly, clenching and unclenching his thumb in his fist. "I'm sorry." Vegard says nothing, just watches him sink more. "Shit, that was stupid. I'm sorry."

"It's fine," he replies, biting the inside of his cheek.

"God damn it." Bård brings his hands up to his face, then drops them down just as quickly. His agitation increases as the seconds drag on, the weight of his symbolic gesture settling in. Bård's regrets it, clearly, but Vegard thinks maybe he shouldn't. It would be easier if he didn't.

"It doesn't matter," he says.

"Yes it does," Bård barks back. "God, I'm so fucking stupid." The venom in his voice slices back into himself now. Part of Vegard prefers if he would just be mad at him; he's so reckless when he hates himself. Vegard looks back at the tree line when he hears splashes in the water. He turns around and Bård is trudging out into the lake.

"Bård, what are you doing for christ's sake--"

"I can find it, just..." Bård calls back, stumbling over his own feet. He catches himself, arms plunged into the water. He rises unsteadily, half of his body now drenched. 

"Bård get out of the fucking water, it's freezing," Vegard yells. Bård ignores him, heading for the general vicinity of the discarded watch. He drops to his knees, feeling around the floor of the pond with his hand. He's muttering again and Vegard worries. "Stop it, Bård, forget the damn watch." He can see Bård's figure shivering in the ice cold water, but he's sure his brother doesn't even notice. "Jesus fucking christ..." he sighs, and walks into the water. The wetness pierces his ankles first and slowly breaches the encasement of his leather shoes. The pond floor gets deeper as he makes his way out, until he feels the numbness at his knees. His legs fight the resistance of the water like nightmares he's had before, and at last he makes it to a scrambling Bård.

Vegard grabs onto any part of his brother's body he can and pulls up. Bård is fervent and slips out of his grasp, going back under the surface. 

"Bård, cut it out," he grunts, grabbing hold of Bård's left wrist. 

"I can find it, just let me look--" Bård twists so his right hand strains to reach the water.

"Bård, no." Vegard tightens his grip and wrenches him up. Bård relents, and Vegard lets go. He looks his older brother square in the eyes; Vegard hates the desperation. He hates what his little brother is trying to do. 

"But I can find it," he pleads. He swallows before adding, "I can take it back." 

"Don't," Vegard says. His throat clenches before he can clarify, but he thinks Bård knows what he means. His little brother stares back, allowing his brother's first decisive statement to anchor.

Bård's body is shaking, from the cold more than likely. His chest heaves and he sniffles, arms stiff at his side. He looks into the empty space between them; Vegard's eyes follow into the void before Bård sloshes forward to close it. He stops once they're too close, and brings his wet hand up to the side of Vegard's neck. Vegard is drawn to the near face, his unreadable expression. He looks calm, but Vegard knows he can't be. His own heart is beating and throbbing blood into his ears. He keeps staring at Bård, and wonders why now of all times he won't look at him. Then Bård kisses him - quick - and pulls back. They're frozen, breathing each other, before Bård goes back in. He makes a little noise, something Vegard doubts he meant to do, and shifts his head slightly right. He takes it a little longer, rubs Vegard's neck with a damp thumb. Vegard scrunches his eyes and tries to control the sudden emotion peaking and falling inside him. He grabs at Bård's wet fingertips that are by his side and kisses him back. They don't get on for long before Bård pulls away.

They stand there with their hands on each other and mouths close. Vegard resists his instinct to reach out, lace his fingers tighter around his brother's. Bård looks down into the water. 

"Do you know how many times I thought about this?"

"No," Vegard says. His eyes wander to Bård's. There are no hints. He's not even listening. 

"And now I'm so drunk and cold that I'm too numb to feel you really." He laughs darkly. Vegard tightens his grip on Bård's fingers like he wants, hoping to transfer the broiling heat inside himself to his brother's skin. His thumb smoothes over the damp flesh again and again while he waits. He'd like to move forward again but maybe he's numb too.

"You love your wife?" Bård asks. 

"Yes," he breathes, truthfully.

"And you love me?"

Vegard considers, contemplating his readiness to confirm. It catches him off guard how badly he'd like to re-state words he said to someone else hours ago. He imagines standing behind Bård, watching the back of his head while his brother's pretty little wife looks back at him with bland pale eyes. Vegard isn't cold anymore. He touches Bård's other arm and opens his mouth to comply.

"Bård--"

"Don't say yes. I think that makes it worse."

Bård detaches, wades out of the water. Vegard doesn't move, doesn't waver his gaze that follows his brother all the way to the shore. Bård stops and looks back at Vegard standing in the same spot, knee-deep in immobility. Bård laughs a light chuckle to himself and rubs his lips. Vegard sees something glistening on his cheek - lake water. Lake water. Bård throws his head back, closed eyes facing the sky. He inhales with a shuddering chest and drops his head. He opens his eyes, then turns and walks away from where he came. Vegard listens for the party ongoing, any sounds of celebration that could be occurring in his absence. He hears nothing, it's too far away. 

 _I have so much_ , Vegard thinks as he watches Bård get farther on the shore. He has a heart in each hand and doesn't deserve either. But it's a happy day, he reminds himself. His brother was smiling as he watched Vegard dance before, especially when he tripped over himself and stomped on the hem of his wife's dress. He recovered ungracefully, the displeasure of his wife dissolving quickly when he smiled embarrassment back at her for his transgression. He kissed her and she forgave him. It won't be so easy with Bård.


End file.
